


Ivy

by Severina



Series: Alphabet Soup [9]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Community: 1_million_words, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-18
Updated: 2015-07-18
Packaged: 2018-04-10 00:55:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4371014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Severina/pseuds/Severina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"It's so frustrating! No matter what I do, the blasted thing won't stop growing." She tossed the pruning shears onto the ground, fisted her hands at her hips. "I swear it has a mind of its own!"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ivy

**Author's Note:**

> Dark Castle. Written for prompt "I" at LJ's 1_million_words A to Z Challenge.
> 
> * * *

As soon as the first hints of spring were in the air, Belle planted her garden.

She had eyed the small barren patch of earth from the kitchen window all winter. Adequately sized, abutting the north castle wall, the perfect mix of sunshine and shade. In the middle of yet another storm the grounds of the Dark Castle were nothing more than snow and shadow, but she had a good imagination. She could see past the harsh winds and the driving sleet to easily picture the area blooming with life. 

Granted, it took more courage than she would like to admit to go to Rumplestiltskin and ask for the seeds. She had an entire speech planned out – about how much tastier his meals would be with the addition of fresh herbs; the lovely salads she could make; the desserts that would leave his mouth watering. But her anxiety had been unnecessary. She had barely uttered the first sentence of her meticulously constructed dissertation before Rumplestiltskin glanced at her and waved his hand. Her arms had immediately been filled with an assortment of small leather bundles secured with ribbons of twine. And when she laughed with delight, she thought she saw a glimmer of a smile on his face before he shooed her from the room and turned back to his potions. 

Now she worked tirelessly. Basil, thyme, oregano and more, all in neat little rows. Some strange and mysterious seeds that she assumed were from Rumple's travels to exotic lands. A larger section set aside for the strawberries she hoped to use for fresh pies and tarts and sweet summer drinks. 

She watered her bare little scrap of earth daily. She watched anxiously for the first buds to push from the earth, and could not stop herself from smiling and pressing her hands together excitedly when the first hint of green appeared from the soil. 

When the first sprouts of ivy also appeared at the base of the castle wall, Belle was equally elated. The thick green leaves would make a lovely backdrop for her little garden.

Two days later, she became concerned. The ivy grew at an alarming rate; eager tendrils of the plant reaching out onto her plot of land to squeeze and choke around her delicate herbs and spices. In the next week she spent more time pruning back the tenacious ivy than she did weeding and tending to her herbs, only to return each afternoon to discover that the ivy had almost doubled in size overnight.

"You won't beat me," she said aloud, brandishing the pruning shears. Perhaps it would be considered strange to be seen talking to the ivy, but her mother had always said that plants flourished when you spoke nicely to them, so Belle chose to believe that the opposite was also true. Since she was having little luck with her consistent trimming she had been reduced to intimidation tactics. "You'd better leave my plants alone if you know what's good for you!"

"Belle?"

Belle started, sitting back on her haunches in the dirt. She gave the ivy a final glare before glancing over her shoulder. "Yes, Rumple?"

"My tea, dearie? Unless you're too busy chatting with your invisible friend?"

Belle blinked, only then noticing the position of the sun. He asked so little of her. Some cleaning, and even then he did not bother if she spent her afternoon with her nose buried in a book rather than dusting his treasures. His meals to be seen to at a reasonable hour. And she had been so negligent. She was at least one hour late with his dinner. Perhaps as much as two! 

"Oh," she breathed. "Oh Rumple, I'm sorry. I lost track of time!"

She stood quickly, her attempt to wipe the dirt from her hands only smearing more of it liberally on her already soiled skirt.

"Yes, that much is obvious," Rumple said dubiously. He looked askance at the dense foliage creeping up the wall, waved a hand at her airily. "I can see that you're… busy."

"It's so frustrating! No matter what I do, the blasted thing won't stop growing." She tossed the pruning shears onto the ground, fisted her hands at her hips. "I swear it has a mind of its own!"

"Hmmm," Rumplestiltskin said.

* * *

Rumplestiltskin waited until he was certain that Belle was sound asleep before slipping from his spinning wheel and approaching her little garden.

He clasped his hands behind his back, surveying her tiny seedlings. He could not remember the last time life sprang from the cursed soil surrounding the Dark Castle. It had been decades since he'd even thought of the scent of freshly turned earth, or the colour of a bright flowering plant. He took a breath, transported in a heartbeat to the meadows on the hillside above a tiny hovel, to grass swaying in the breeze, to the smell of wet dog and the braying of sheep and to Bae's sweet laughter. 

The hovel is long gone. He made sure of that. And they say that no animal will go within ten miles of that hill, not even after all these years. 

Rumplestiltskin frowned, pulled his attention back to the present. Belle's garden. Her labour of love. Not a weed to be found, but even now a tendril of ivy crept about the stem of a sprig of basil and tightened its noose. 

"I'm sure you find this amusing," he said.

The wind picked up. The tangled leaves rustled. 

Rumplestiltskin cocked his head. "Indeed. My interest in the maid is not your concern. You will cease this foolishness at once."

Leaves slithered against one another deliberately, quite in defiance of the direction of the wind. 

"I could banish you to the swamps of Ara-Kahn, you know," Rumplestiltskin said. He lifted a hand, index finger pointed as though the idea had just occurred; waved his hand to implement the idea on the spot and watched the entire mass of ivy heave as one before settling back against the thick castle wall. 

After a moment the leaves rustled once, sparingly. 

Rumplestiltskin nodded curtly. "I thought you'd see it my way."

* * *

Belle thought it only fitting that she make amends to Rumplestiltskin for her inattentiveness of the previous day. She spent the morning fussing over an elaborate noonday meal and her afternoon carefully removing and polishing every item in the cabinet in the Great Room. And if Rumple only picked at the food on his plate and did not even seem to notice that his treasures now gleamed? Her conscience was still appeased. And looking upon the shining trinkets gave her great pleasure, regardless.

It wasn't until early evening that she was able to get outside to see to her plants, ever-present shears clutched in a white-knuckled grip. She had spent part of the previous evening formulating a new plan of attack for the obstinate ivy, and was so caught up in the thought of executing her strategy that it took a moment for her brain to accept what her eyes were seeing.

The ivy had seemingly shrunk overnight. 

Where before there had been masses of entwined leaves, most of which dangled and twisted among her little herbs and tangled in her strawberry patch, now the ivy grew tall and straight. It clung to the wall of the castle as proper ivy should. 

Belle smiled smugly. Apparently her mother was correct after all.

"Hmm. Learned your lesson, did you?" she asked.

There was a whisper of rustling leaves as a tiny tendril of ivy crept defiantly along the ground to pluck at a stem of trembling thyme before it was snatched back into the mass.

Belle had already plopped down to fuss over the basil and didn't notice a thing.


End file.
